Rated: NC-13

 

Category: MA, MT, UST
 
Spoilers/Season: 1

 
Archive: Gossamer, any other nice home. Please let me know.

Feedback: patfiler@hotmail.com

 

Disclaimers: Chris Carter, 1013 Productions and Fox Studios still
own the rights to The X-Files and its characters. I intend no
copyright infringement and gather no money from writing  fan fiction.

Author's Note:  Written for the Mulder's Refuge Golden Gurney December
Challenge, with the loving guidance and beta from San. Thanks so much
for your encouragement and suggestions!

Am I ever going to get her! Oh, she's a wonderful partner, don't get
me wrong. The storage capacity that brain of hers has for the art
of medicine, chemistry, and Einstein's paradox is unfathomable. (Her
lips look so... now, now. Okay, sexy. NEVER tell her I said that).

 

I swear, this December, on exactly the twelfth day before the jolly
old fellow comes to town and I sit at home growing mold, she set my
mouse pad on fire after having spilled acetone on it. Acetone? That
was to remove some old, old paint splash off of my desk. And, she
stole a smoke in the office while I was upstairs getting some air.
(Stressed, she claimed. Holidays.)

 

Day eleven before Christmas, I generously offered her a ride home, as
her car was in the garage. She invited me into her apartment, and
brought me a hot chocolate to warm myself. She handed me a slightly
dirty, but (very ) funny Christmas card, and I spilled it right into my
lap.The mug rolled under the couch with the giant dust bunny, but
I couldn't move until she brought me some ice for the damaged
ding-a-ling. "Got the hots?" She chided me. "Sorry, Mulder."

Sure you are.

The tenth day? As I was recovering from the singed family jewels, I
arrived home from the office to an apartment as steamy as a sauna.  A
hot water pipe had broken. Oh, I know I can't pin THAT one on Scully.
Maybe she has a voodoo doll of me, come to think of it. I have
ditched her three times in the past month while on the road. Hmmm...
Mental note: Look for voodoo doll if I ever go to her place again.

Nine days before Christmas, I had still tender privates and no hot
water. To the office I went. Accounting departments have no sympathy
for agents who lose their cell phones  and flashlights. I must pay for
the flashlights I am issued from now on, until they are satisfied I
have been good. Scrooge was such a nice fellow in comparison

Eight days before Christmas, Scully told me of the wonderful party
her family has every year, followed by the Christmas morning roll call
family dinner, and talk of their childhood memories of a nice, warm
Christmas. So, I sat in the dark in my apartment, remembering how
my father said we couldn't afford that toboggan I wanted. Mom later
told me that she never forgave him for denying a six-year-old boy a
toboggan. He drank away all the money. I also remembered the first
Christmas without Samantha and I cried. Mental note: Never tell Miss
Burn the Balls.

Seven days before Christmas, Scully gave me the most endearing thing
I have ever seen: a flying saucer mouse pad with holly around the
wide part of the saucer. I reached over to get her present from
the top of a file cabinet. Stupid paper shredder was still on and my
tie got drawn into it! Nearly choked. She quickly turned the machine
off and just couldn't stop laughing. Her present? A year's subscription to
OMNI magazine. I want to cancel the order.

Six days before Christmas and me still having the will to live, Scully
invited me out to dinner to make up for all the torment the past few
days had brought. When I get out of hospital, I will call the Health
Department to complain about that place. How long can you keep
KFC safely under hot lights in a warmer?

Five days before Christmas, Scully visited me in the hospital,
and tripped over my I.V. lead between the pole and me, because
I wanted to get a look at her new cell phone. Ha! Tit for tat.
But she fell into my tender loin.

Four days before Christmas, my system was so much better and the
hospital released me. Scully came to my apartment to check on me that
evening, and gave me a present. I was not to open it until Christmas
morning, she instructed me. She took my temperature, changed the
channel for me, and we watched "A Christmas Carol" in  my living room.
Well, at least until the cable went out. A blizzard had hit the
area.  To top that off, she was going to stay with me all night.
Had to keep  raging hormones and resentment for the past week at bay.
Talk about painful. Mental note: No hot chocolate ever again at
Scully's place.

Three days before Christmas, someone found one of my many lost cell
phones and was making obscene calls to Scully. She came over to my
place just to slap me because she thought I was making all the lewd
suggestions. Wish I had!

Two days before Christmas, I had a ream of paperwork to finish before
closing up the office for a week, and Scully caught the 'flu. She
was at home and had been contagious the day before. So, guess who
puked all over my finalized report on our last case? I hate homework
when I'm sick, sick and burned, and sick.

The day before Christmas, I realized I was a selfish idiot: She has
saved my ass many times, and even though lately we have had a run of
mishaps and bad luck, she  really  deserves a gift. Even though every
year we go through the "I thought we agreed" bit, I delivered her gift: 
an M and M's key chain. Her smile was worth it all. And she gave me a
new tie. She has my taste! (I think we're compatible. Don't tell her
that.)

On Christmas Day, as I sneeze, blow and barf my way through all the
old movies, canned chicken noodle soup and ginger ale, I realize as
I look at all that has happened this month: I'm still going to get her
for all those things that were absolutely uncalled for!

Even if she did get her M and M's key chain! Hmmmph!!!

Pattie

Many thanks to San (Humbuggie) for helping me get the kinks out and
making it a more enjoyable effort.  Chocolate truffles for Humbuggie.  

 

           END